


Pickles, Please.

by CalamityK



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Pickles - Freeform, this is crack i just wrote in ten minutes, yuri is a dirty boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 10:32:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10488897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityK/pseuds/CalamityK
Summary: “Actually, can I just get a plate of pickles?”The waitress stops writing on her pad for a second and looks up a bit stricken. “Just… pickles?”Yuri nods and gives her his signature ten-thousand-watt smile that always puts his fanbase on their knees. “Yeah. Thebig, round, long, wholeones if you have them.”--------Or that fic where Yuri is a little shit. Poor Beka.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Anon said: "A take B to nice dinner date. B order plate full of pickles. A questions B if this implies for how their tonight will go [in bed]. (srry i saw the pic and gotta ask)"
> 
>  
> 
> [The pic they're referring to](http://kingotabek.tumblr.com/post/158944578307/im-dinner-shaming-this-bitch-suspiciousbuttons-i)
> 
>  
> 
> this isn't meant to be serious or good or well written.

Otabek has been planning this anniversary dinner for over a month. He made the reservations ahead of time, and made absolutely certain that neither of them had any prior obligations. 

And everything seems to go smoothly. Yuri meets him a block down from the restaurant, wearing a nice shirt and decent jeans. They smile, they exchange kisses, they order their drinks and talk about all the things they normally talk about while they wait.

Then the waitress comes to take their order, and Otabek orders chicken like he always does, and even motions to Yuri, giving the waitress Yuri’s favorite order thinking it’s romantic to order for his boyfriend, but Yuri cuts him off.

“Actually, can I just get a plate of pickles?” 

The waitress stops writing on her pad for a second and looks up a bit stricken. “Just... _pickles_?”

Yuri nods and gives her his signature ten-thousand-watt smile that always puts his fanbase on their knees. “Yeah. The _big, round, long, whole_ ones if you have them.” 

Otabek just stares blankly across the table as Yuri accentuates each descriptive word and then winks dramatically at the waitress. 

He waits until the waitress scribbles Yuri’s odd request down onto her pad and leaves, before he speaks. And then he isn’t sure what to ask beyond, “ _Pickles_ , Yuri?”

Yuri leans his chin into his palm and flutters his eyelashes innocently. “Yes, Beka. I’m in the mood for a _nice... big... thick... juicy_ pickle.” 

He emphasizes the descriptors again and Otabek is beginning to think there’s an ulterior motive to Yuri’s choices, but he just nods. It’s probably best he drops the subject, and lets Yuri play out whatever he’s doing.

Which is a good plan, of course, until the actual plate of pickles arrives. 

The waitress sets Otabek’s food down first and gives him a small smile.

Then she places a plate of five-- _quite large--_ whole pickles in front of Yuri, and the look on her face changes to what can only be described as _distress_. 

Otabek sympathizes, he’s beginning to feel distressed himself.

Especially as Yuri dives right in, picking up the first pickle, fitting his lips around it, and sucking the juice off the end with a loud pop. 

It’s _obscene,_ to a degree only someone with prior experience and a dirty mind could manage. 

Otabek swallows thickly as Yuri continues his ministrations on the phallic food. 

“Yuri, if you’re going to eat nothing but pickles, do you have to eat them like that?” 

Yuri wraps his tongue around the end still at his lips, and makes a show of licking it clean, before he actually takes the first real bite. “Is something wrong, Beka?” 

Otabek has to press his palm to his crotch and try not to scream: _Yes, Yuri, something is very wrong in my pants and you know it you little shit._

Somehow he manages to say, “No, not at all.”

But it comes out strangled even to his own ears, and the gleam in Yuri’s eyes shows that he’s fully aware its a lie. 

Otabek tries to avert his eyes and fails, as Yuri smoothly shoves the remains of the pickle all the way into his mouth, even going so far as to tilt his head back a little and _hum_ as it hits his throat. He pulls it back out quickly, a small trail of saliva following it and dripping down his chin. 

Otabek’s eyes cross, and it’s all he can do not to groan aloud. He has enough sense to be thankful that they’re in a private booth, but it’s not enough. 

“Yuri, I think we need to leave.”

Yuri stops nibbling the end of the pickle and feigns surprise, “But, Beka, we just got our meals.” 

“We can take it to go,” Otabek growls, and the rumble in his chest surprises even him, “but we need to leave.”

“Fine.” Yuri drops the pickle back to his plate and smirks, “I think i’ll enjoy my _pickle_  much better at home anyway.”

**Author's Note:**

> Am I--your trashlord--even sorry? No.
> 
> make dumb requests of me over at [kingotabek](http://kingotabek.tumblr.com/)


End file.
